I’m sitting on my balcony sipping a glass of wine. If the truth is told, I may have sipped one glass too many, but who’s counting! As I sip I’m looking forward to my flight tomorrow into East Midlands. Tom will be there to meet me……he always is. I make this trip twice a year, and he does the same in the reverse direction to visit me here.
I’ve probably replayed all the events hundreds of times in my mind. I can’t be certain, but I don’t think I’ve edited anything out. Who knows after all this time? Twenty five years……it hardly seems like ten! It all started at home in Harrogate……my parents’ wedding anniversary, and they were having a bit of “a do” with friends and relatives. I had finished 6 th Form after the A-levels and was now waiting to go to college. We had house guests for the weekend, including Tom who was up from Nottingham. Tom and Daddy, he was a year or so older, were very close.
During the afternoon I took the dogs for a walk. Tom chose to come with me. We were enjoying the walk, talking of this and that. As a fully-paid-up member of the Stroppy 17-Year Olds Union , I was doing my “everything’s wrong with everything” because I’d had a lousy date the previous evening. My boyfriend at the time, Callum (son of friends of my parents) had been an absolute git and I had stormed off. Perhaps I should add that I wasn’t without blame. In fact, it was probably me who was the cause of it all…..but I wouldn’t ever admit to that publicly!
Tom asked why it had all to be so dramatic. Me, dramatic? As if! But I did end up telling him that last night was supposed to be when we were going to “do it” for the first time. I’d totally frozen, had gone rigid. Then I’d stormed off. Was I frightened about the consequences, he wondered? I said I’d thought of that and had been on the pill for some 2 months. I was able to say things like that to Tom because he understood me……unlike some……bloody Callum, for instance!
He stopped walking, turned to me and suggested maybe he could help me sort it all out. I think I had replied something along the lines of “It certainly needed sorting out”.
We discussed it no further and returned home with the dogs. In the evening we all went over to the hotel where the thrash was being held. Who were the very first people I saw as I entered? Bloody Callum’s parents! I just wanted the ground to swallow me up. This wasn’t lost on Tom. Mine was a face like a wet blanket, and a mood to match. I half expected Callum to pop out of the woodwork.
An hour or so into the evening Daddy came up to me. Tom had explained I’d had a bit of a run-in with Callum. He realised I was rather embarrassed by his parents being there, and suggested I might like to go home in a taxi. I jumped at the chance and was in bed and asleep when everyone else returned.
At breakfast Daddy drew me to one side and told me they had been wondering if I was wanting to keep a low profile for a few days. If I wished, I could go and stay down in Nottingham with Tom for a few days, and he would drive me back up to Harrogate the following Sunday. I thought about it a little, and decided to go along with this suggestion. We left after lunch. It’s about a 2 hours drive to Nottingham.
The drive down was pleasant. Tom chatted, told me we’d sort it all out, and not to worry. He assured me I’d feel much better about it all very quickly. I had my doubts, but didn’t voice them. Tom said it was all a matter of confidence and trust, and if these are not right at the time - disaster. Great!
We got to his place and he carried my things up to the little front bedroom. He came back down the stairs saying perhaps it was time to really start talking this through properly. First, however, his suggestion was that I have a nice warm bath and a good soak to relax me. He ran it for me.
As I went in to the bathroom he called up the stairs. “Why don’t you leave the door unlocked? I’ll come up and sit on the edge of the bath. We’ll chat. Although I was really nervous at this, I did agree, albeit hesitantly. He came up and he did sit on the edge of the bath. I was sitting in the water, arms wrapped around my knees, striving to hide myself. He said nothing about that. But we did talk……quite a bit. He also asked if he could soap my back and shoulders. I let him do so, it was really relaxing. He said my skin felt nice. That was a nice thing to say. We talked all the while about confidence and trust, and the need to feel some genuine attraction. He then went downstairs, told me to get myself dried and dressed, but asked me to leave the water in. He would have a bath in that too.
The bathroom door open he left open. He called down to me: “Come up and sit on the side of the bath, just like I did. Talk to me a little more.. He was sitting like I had done, hugging his knees. I was surprised to see that his shoulders were hairy. I quite liked that, actually. The soapy water from my bath covered him and I saw nothing untoward. I also soaped him like he had done to me, and I found it surprisingly relaxing to soap his back. It made it so much easier to talk.
As the water cooled he asked me to go and fix some coffees. Then, he got out and came downstairs wrapped in a bathrobe. We sat together on the settee with our coffee, his arm loosely around my shoulders, his fingers gently kneading my shoulder. Imagine how startled I was when he looked me straight in the eyes, saying “I’m now going to go upstairs because I’m not going to sit around in this bathrobe. I shall hold your hand, and you’re going to come with me. When we get to my bedroom I shall go in. If you don’t choose to follow then that is not a problem at all. If you do, I shall enjoy feeling that lovely back again. I know you will enjoy it too, and more besides.”
By the hand he led me up the stairs. At his bedroom door he let it go. My heart was pounding . “This is me” he said, and went in. The next I knew I found myself in there as well trying to be super-confident with a “This is me as well!” I’m afraid it didn’t quite come out as confidently as I might have wished.
Tom was the first man ever to undress me. His hands were large and strong. They caressed and stroked wherever they wanted. His fingers probed and squeezed where he chose. They were assured and reassuring at the same time. His fingers felt warm, soft and purposeful. And those fingers were the first to enter my pussy and prepare it. They pressed my lips together and then opened them out, slipping a little between the outer lips to make my juices start to flow. They beckoned within me as if inviting me to come out and meet him half-way.
He still wore his robe, and placed a pillow beneath my bottom to raise me. He arranged me so that I lay comfortably, my legs falling naturally slightly apart beyond the pillow. He gradually transferred more of his weight onto me on the bed, and I felt so small beneath him. But at the same time I felt safe and secure there with him. At this point I think it was the first time he actually kissed me on the mouth. I felt the gentle stubble of his half-day beard against my face and truly realised this was a grown man, not a boy. With that kiss I felt myself letting go of being a girl to make way for the emerging woman within me.
His cock (would I have used a word like that back then?) he pressed against my opened outer lips, stroking them up and down with its tip. More juices. He let it rest against my openness allowing me the sensation of its heat and its strength. How did it feel? Exciting? Frightening. Tempting? Very tempting. Ever so gently he allowed it to force those lips to open me a little further. Then he just stayed there holding me open with himself.
There was no doubt I was very excited to feel him against me like this. Holding me open like that was making my juices flow copiously, and my legs were starting to splay involuntarily to allow him closer to me. I felt my pussy willing itself to grip him as he opened me just that little bit.
Would I like to press myself against him a little to get used to the feeling of his cock there? It felt so hard and warm and confident. As I pressed I felt myself getting more and more wet. He felt it too. By now I was pressing myself quite hard against him. Then, as I pressed he returned the pressure. I pressed once more, and again he responded. A third time I pressed. Him again, and then I yielded……with a squeal. I felt so full and found myself holding my breath as if I thought I was going to split in two.
He hugged me close and soothed me with shushing sounds. He lay absolutely still there within me, and very slowly I accustomed myself to this very strange and very full feeling. Now he lent a little forwards, and drew back a little, oh so gently. Several times he did this, each time I was feeling a little more comfortable. I soon found myself meeting his gentle push with a little push of my own. I also noticed my knees turning outwards as my legs relaxed. In fact, my legs seemed to be finding their way around his body to hold him to me, and at that point I was truly able to relax.
He felt this change in me, his cue to take a more complete control over me. Here he was pressing in to me strongly and further with each stroke. He clasped the cheeks of my bottom, pulling me towards him with each thrust into me. His body lapped against mine I was so wet. I thrilled to hear that slapping sound as my wetness pressed against him because it was telling me that this was what I truly desired. His orgasm felt as though it was going to scald me.
I felt dizzy and at the same time wonderful as he wrapped me in his arms, still in his white bathrobe. He lay beside me, stroking my neck and shoulders, my back and my waist and my bottom. I let my hands slide inside his robe and stroked his back in return. His chest pressed against my breasts. So soothing. The slight discomfort between my legs faded quickly as I gave myself up to his arms. More caressing. Was I surprised to feel his cock pressing against my tummy? Of course I was, but more than a little flattered too.
I drew back a little and opened his robe. This was the first time I had seen his cock. Absolutely huge. I just could not believe this could have been inside me and indeed had been inside me just a short while ago. It was so thick. When he took my hand and placed it firmly on his shaft, my fingers didn’t meet. He reassured me that indeed this was truly what was inside me, and what he was certain I had found exciting to be within me. I had to agree with him because it had excited me. What’s more, he told me he was again now so aroused because he had really liked what had happened, what was happening right then, and what he hoped might happen again……like now?
He guided my hand so that I held him firmly. He taught me how to stroke my lips with his cock, just as he had done, and to part them and place his head against my wet and opening pussy. He told me I was a woman now, and had the right to reject or accept a man. And he told me if I wished to accept a man all I had to do from this position was simply feed him into my pussy.
How I wanted to feel that full feeling again. I wanted to feel his body on top of mine. I was so wet at the thought of it that, as I guided his cock to my open lips, it just kept going. Right inside me……and none of the earlier resistance. He sighed as he entered me. I returned that sigh, this time with real pleasure and, dare I say, desire. I knew what he meant now about confidence and trust. He made love to me like the woman I now was......manfully, firmly, and full of a want for me that I could not fail to feel. I responded, giving myself to him with abandon.
That’s what it was, me giving myself totally to this man. Here I was giving myself to him because I trusted him and was confident to do so. And what I received in return was pure ecstasy.
He was my first man. His was the very first cock I had held in my hand. Over the next few days he showed and taught me such a lot. He showed me what semen looked and tasted like, and he taught me how to enjoy his cock in my mouth.
At the end of the week, while making love yet again before we set off back to Harrogate, he asked if I was happy. I knew I was. Then, a very poignant question as he lay, filling me with his lovely shaft. “While you don’t belong to anyone else, will you keep a place in your heart for me?” A further question. “And, if you still don’t belong to another man, might there be a place deep within you for me……like this?”
I lay there beneath him, looking up at him from my position on the pillow. If I looked downwards I could see his cock glistening as it entered me and then drew from me. So big and so strong. He filled me completely, not just with his shaft but with his orgasm as it burst into me in a hot and tempestuous explosion.
My answer was a promise that I made very easily in that moment. It was a promise that was easy to keep. And it was a promise I am still keeping to this very day. He is 19 years older than me. His marriage ended in divorce some 4 years before any of this happened. The last time he took me into his bed was at the end of November when I was briefly in England. He is still a wonderful lover. His cock is still full, strong and sure. And still very satisfyingly thick.
Now , remembering this is a twenty five years relationship, you may question if we are married or even partners? Let me explain. At the time I wasn’t quite 18. I had my college course to start and complete, and then a career to build. He had his Architect’s practice to build. Oh, and there was also that other little matter……I’m Tom’s niece.
Just in case you’re wondering, there was nothing tacky or abusive in this. In fact, if (knowing what I know now) I had my time over again, I would change nothing.
I take another sip of my wine, and raise my glass in a silent toast to Tom. I’m so looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. And between you and me, I shall be soooo happy when he takes me by the hand and leads me up those stairs once more. Mmmmmmm!
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